


we're miles adrift, we're inches apart

by starkholic (celestialassassin)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cold War, M/M, Mention of Historical figures and events, Red Scare, mention of chronic pain, mention of war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 00:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17777342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialassassin/pseuds/starkholic
Summary: Alfred feels the aches and pains of an oncoming war and Ivan tries his best to soothe him over the phone. The Red Scare has everyone on their toes and is keeping the two longing nations apart. They speak in the dark and in hushed tones where no one can see.





	we're miles adrift, we're inches apart

**Author's Note:**

> Very dialogue heavy but I really like how it turned out.  
> solnyshka - little sun, sunshine. 
> 
> Not sure how accurate it is, sorry if it's not correct.

Feb. 14. 1955

Things had been busy since the year started. There was never enough time for anything something always needed to be done. Alfred was at the White House late, looking through some paperwork that needed to get done. Eisenhower had told him to go home that they would finish this tomorrow and to get some sleep.

Alfred was grateful for the dismissal. He wasn’t tired but needed to be alone. He needed to be able to hear his own thoughts. He finished up and left with a wave as someone escorted him out to his car.

Making it home there is a certain tension that leaves his shoulders. The dark circles under his eyes urged him to sleep but he couldn’t. Something was stopping him.

He walked into the living room, an uncomfortable chill lingering in the room. He lit a fire in the fireplace and the warmth began to creep into his body. His eyes stopped on a chair left of the burning flames. A feeling of nostalgia washed over him as he could vaguely remember a string of Russian that once spoke to him and the fire.

The quiet was welcome, but his massive house clung to the voices that once wandered these halls. He remembered when things were alright and certain people could come over. Violet eyes came into his mind. He shook the thought off.

He padded into the kitchen and fixed himself something to eat. It was 3:16 am when the phone rang.

“Hello?” biting back the twinge of frustration towards the person who dared to call him at this hour.

“You are up so late, I was hoping to catch you before you slept.” a familiar voice came from the other line.

“You shouldn’t be calling me here.” he said with a guarded tone as he leaned against the wall.

“Well, I cannot call you at the office, I’m very certain their phones are being monitored.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t be calling me _here_ either.”

“You act as if I haven’t been careful.”

There is a moment of silence.

“You sound tired.” a whisper comes from the other line, quiet and careful.

“Well, it’s 3 in the goddamn morning, Ivan.”

“That is not what I’m referring to and you know that. You are not as oblivious as you have fooled the world into thinking.”

Alfred sighs. He is tired. An exhaustion that doesn’t leave even when he’s had a good amount of sleep. A deep pang that rings through his bones. Muscles that are pulled too tightly and shoulders carrying too much weight.

“There’s another war coming.”

“Da, there always is.”

Alfred didn’t want to talk about it. He knew Ivan knew. It wasn’t his fault, but his body would be put through the wringer for ‘freedom’. To fight in a country, he knew didn’t want anything to do with him. His body already ached.

He takes a bite of his sandwich.

“You should not be eating this late.”

“Shut up, I’ll do what I want.”

“I mean as it is not healthy to stress eat.”

Alfred made sure Ivan could hear every bite.

“Hey.” Alfred said after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Could you…” he didn’t want to ask, but he craved it so badly with the fireplace lit in his living room it felt as if something was missing. Ivan didn’t interrupt him, he patiently waited for Alfred to ask for whatever it is he wanted.

His eyes flick over to the fire and the pile of ashes it gathers.

“Nevermind I--” he tries to brush it off.

“Speak your mind, solnyshka.” there's a tenderness his tone holds seemingly only reserved for Alfred.

Alfred takes a deep breath relaxing himself, the name of endearment making his chest tighten in delight and anxiety. If someone was listening in they would know the nature of their relationship, but he knows that isn’t the case.

“Could you read to me for a bit?”

“In English?”

“Nah.”

“Da, I understand.” knowing exactly which memories Alfred wants to revisit.

The line went silent for a moment and Alfred could hear some shuffling in the background. He cradled the phone between his head and shoulder as he finally sat down by the fireplace.

Ivan came back and started to read from whatever book he had selected. His words lulling him into a sense of peace he hadn't felt in so long. He forgot about the things happening involving his country. He forgot about the impending war and the blood it will spill. He forgot about the fact that he wasn’t allowed to see to Ivan without both of their bosses’ supervision. He especially forgot wasn’t supposed love him. It wasn’t something that was allowed of him.

The words came out smooth his tone calm and full assurance. An hour passed and Ivan stopped.

“Alfred?” he asked, the phone had been silent save for Alfred’s steady breathing. Ivan wasn’t sure if the other nation had fallen asleep.

“Still here.” he reassures.

Ivan chuckled over the phone.

“I think you should head to bed. Your boss will want you early tomorrow, and I also have to leave shortly.”

“Trying to get rid of me huh?” he teased.

“I couldn’t even if I tried.” a fond amusement lacing his voice.

“Later, Ivan.”

“Good night, Alfred.”

Alfred waited until he heard the click of Ivan’s phone hanging up before hanging up himself. The fire now completely extinguished.

 


End file.
